The Wondrous Journals of Dr. Wendell Wellington Wiggins by Lesley M. M. Blume

Author:Lesley M. M. Blume [Blume, Lesley M. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-375-89918-8
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2012-08-07T04:00:00+00:00

53. This temple was built by ancient Romans to worship all of their gods. Rebuilt from an earlier building in AD 125, the Pantheon still stands today.

54. The food and drink of the ancient Greek and Roman gods.

Journal No. 4

Africa

March 1866

The Sahara Desert, Tunisia55

In Which I Discover … the Paper Mirage Tribe

(Populi Charta Simulacrumi)

We rode camels here, of course. Gibear had his own baby camel: on our voyage to our camp, he nestled between the beast’s humps and still sleeps there each night. The two creatures have become close friends and even talk to each other in a special yowling language.

When we arrived in Tunisia—the first destination in our exploration of Africa—I met with a very old Berber56 chief named Udad to learn more about this country’s history. The chief told me tales of great kingdoms, battles, and pirates.57 I listened with mild interest, like I would listen to bedtime tales. But this fare was entirely too modern for my tastes, and eventually I grew impatient and asked him to tell me about truly ancient Tunisia. The chief grew very serious.

“There is one part of the desert mountains called Jebel Dahar, where I recommend you do not travel,” he told me. “It appears that the ancient world is still very much alive there, and we do not understand its ways.”

I sat up straight as an arrow. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“There are very strange mirages there,” the chief told me. “They do not behave like other mirages in the world. Most of the men who go to look at them do not come back.”58

A servant placed a cup of strong Arabic coffee in front of Gibear: one sip made his bright green hair stand right up on end. Everyone in the room laughed. I announced that I would leave to examine these mirages right away, and asked how much it would cost to procure camels and a guide.

“We have no need of your money,” Chief Udad said. “However,” he went on, his gaze drifting down to Gibear, “there are other things to barter. Tunisia is a very dry land; we always long to see green things here.”

The next morning, Gibear had once again been shaved from ears to tail, and his rare green fur bought us ten camels, porters, a guide, and provisions for a month.

Away we went. At first our trip seemed curiously uneventful. But then, something quite strange happened as we drew closer to Jebel Dahar. The air grew drier and drier. This may seem like an odd observation; after all, deserts are dry by definition. Well, this air was something new altogether: the air here grew so dry that it almost hardened—and then went on the attack, trying to suck and steal all of the precious water out of our bodies. I covered Gibear with a damp cloth; a minute later that cloth shriveled and stiffened practically into a board under the hot sun.

Just then, my guide shouted and pointed to the horizon. A glistening, completely

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